After you left
by Jones.A
Summary: A rare, silent day at the BAU, Spencer finds himself wanting to talk to Morgan about their fellow agent, Emily Prentiss after she passed away. The story is set somewhere at the end of season six, post "Lauren"


After you left.

Spencer saw the snow fall silently on the ground. It was like the white substance muffled all sound around him and he reached deep inside his pockets and grabbed the letter he had written to his mother. He let it fall into the mailbox outside the post office and somewhere within him a sadness clutched at his heart. It had been moths since he had visited his mother and the guilt that filled him was hard to carry at times like these. Lately he had wondered if the longing within him would ever go away or if he would someday stop feeling so hollow. This was the first Christmas without Emily Prentiss and Spencer found it hard to smile or to even care about the jolliness that waited around every corner he walked by. The town was lit up by Christmas lights and the darkness that lay heavy in the night didn't seem quite as pressing because of it. He was thankful that someone took the time to illuminate the holydays he was not able to appreciate. He missed her, Emily. And sometimes he felt the need to whisper her name silently into the dark in the middle of the night when he could not sleep. Like she'd somehow hear him and finally answer his aching voice. He pressed his eyes closed and wished hard that this loss he was feeling would somehow turn and relish all his pain.

At work the mood was no different than his, like the bullpen carried some sort of tiredness. The heavy atmosphere made it hard for Spencer to not want to sink deep inside the sleep, if he only could lay his head down at his desk and disappear for a little while, vanish from this heavy world. Instead he found himself glancing over at Emily's empty desk, wishing she'd been sitting right there, complaining about boring paperwork. But she was gone, and her desk was undisturbed and quiet. Sometimes he would believe so hard, feel so sure that the woman walking out of the elevator was Emily, that the dark hair sliding over female shoulders was hers. But it never was.  
>He remembered her snarky comments and her mischievous smile that always played at her lips. Her humour that he once found jarred and inappropriate he learned to value and love. It was funny, he thought, that certain things, you didn't know you loved until it was lost.<p>

He wanted to talk to Morgan, he wanted him to laugh and call him pretty boy. Not because he necessarily liked being called pretty boy, but because he wanted Morgan to smile again, because it made him feel better when Morgan was happy. Morgan didn't laugh though, and he didn't call him pretty boy either anymore. But then again Spencer hadn't really talked to Morgan in a while. He was withdrawn, and so was Spencer. He squinted over at Morgan, saw him sitting there, frowning in thought. He was writing on something, or maybe just making messy drawings of nothing in particular. Spencer got up from his desk and walked over to him. He leaned against the wall, standing there watching him. To his surprise Morgan didn't seem to notice Spencer.  
>"Hey, Morgan?" he said, almost making no sound, his voice hoarse. Derek jumped in his chair and, looking at him as though he was trying to attack him he let out a surprised scream.<br>"Hey, chill there," he said. –"It's only me." Even though Morgan smiled, the only thing Spencer saw was the hollowness in his eyes. He looked tired too, sad. He figured he felt the same way he did.  
>"What's up, Reid?" They didn't have a case at the time, and this was one of those rare days they spent at their desks, loaded with paperwork, it only made the coffee cravings spread like itching spiders inside Spencer's body.<br>"You want coffee? Care to join me in the kitchen?" Morgan sighted and got up from his chair. He followed Spencer inside the tiny kitchen behind the bullpen area. Morgan burned himself at the hot coffee as he spilled some over his fingers holding his cup.  
>"Ouch." Spencer looked up vaguely, and asked: "You ok?"<br>"Yeah, I'm fine." But he didn't look fine and Spencer wanted to comfort him. Like if he were to ease Morgan's mind, he would somehow mend his own.

He was not aware that he eyed Morgan before he suddenly met his gaze. He saw deep inside his eyes, reflecting the sorrow that lay in his own. When Spencer put sugar in his coffee he heard his mother's words. _That's why you're so skinny, you know. _He shook her words away, hiding the memory of her, because if he thought about her now, he would probably feel like crying. All he really wanted now was to sit beside her in the bed she used to have at home, and listen to her voice reading poems so carefully and so gentle that he would fall asleep in her lap. In his letter he had written about Emily. He had written about how she once used to fill his life with her being and that now she was only a ghost of a memory.  
>"She always hated this coffee, you know. But she drank it anyway," Spencer said, observing Morgan's gaze falling to the floor. Spencer knew Morgan didn't need to ask who he was talking about; he already knew Emily was the one on everybody's mind.<br>"Spencer… I don't want to talk about Emily."  
>"Why?"<br>"Because it makes me sad."  
>"You're already sad." Morgan went quiet, didn't meet his eyes.<br>"So are you."  
>"Yeah." They both went silent and stood in each other's company, drinking coffee, hoping the warm liquid would ease the loss they both felt so heavily. But then Morgan spoke, despite having said he didn't want to talk about her.<br>"You know what the last thing she said to me was?" He asked Spencer. He was listening with all his attention to his fellow agent. Spencer didn't shook his head or answer no to his question, instead he was only silent, waiting for Morgan to speak.  
>"She said, let me go."<br>"But you couldn't, and you can't." Spencer said, knowing his statement spoke the truth for both of them. Morgan just nodded, touching the back of his neck slightly. Despite of himself, Reid wanted to reach out for Morgan, grab his hand or stroke his back, just something that added a sense of comfort, just so he could let go of the grief if only for a fraction of a second as his hand touched his. He didn't though. Instead he witnessed Morgan turn away, a shadow lining the one side of his face. Spencer realised that it was tears that made his colleague conceal his face. Reid laid a hand on Morgan's shoulder, squeezing it lightly, hoping he would feel warmth from it. When Morgan remained with his face turned away from Spencer, he went from touching his shoulder to stroking his back, gently, soft, like his mother used to do to him when he was little. Morgan shook lightly under Reid's hand. He thought that it was weird seeing his friend like this. Morgan was always tough, brave, it was always Morgan comforting Reid, not the other way around, but he was glad he got the chance to show his protective colleague that he didn't always have to be the one keeping it together, the one who always knew what to say. Spencer knew Morgan had loved Prentiss. Not that he was in love with her or anything, just that he liked her a lot. And Spencer could see why; they were similar, they were alike. As if Emily had been Morgan's sister, close in age. They all saw her as a sister, they all loved her, but Morgan was closest to her, Spencer knew that even though the sorrow within him these days told him that he had loved Prentiss more than he knew was possible. She was a colleague, a friend, a sister. She was gone and she had left behind a mangled team, broken by her death.  
>After a while, and after Spencer had let go of Morgan's back, Derek spoke;<br>"I told Garcia that Emily wouldn't want her to sulk." Spencer was quiet, figured it was easier for Morgan to speak if he felt that he was listening fully.  
>"But I'm a hypocrite," he spoke again. When Morgan didn't say more Spencer replied;<br>"How could you not, sulk I mean. It's only normal." Morgan didn't answer, but he said instead;  
>"It's like she disappeared without meaning. Like her life wasn't worth more than dying on a cold floor."<br>"Technically she died on the operation table." Spencer had regretted saying that the moment the words escaped his lips. Now was not the time for correction, like he was petty enough to argue over wording. But Morgan didn't seem to mind, he didn't even seem to have heard.  
>"It's like she isn't really gone, that she's only hiding behind the curtains. Waiting to pop out any second, scaring the hell out of us. Do you know what I mean, Reid?"<br>"Yes." Spencer had often thought about that, that she wasn't really dead, that she'd somehow fooled them into thinking she was gone for ever. But then reality would hit him hard, and he would realize that dwelling on those thoughts was nothing more than wishful thinking.  
>"Sometimes I panic at the thought of her never coming back. I panic because I will never see her again, and I want to, God, I want to," Spencer said, hoping he didn't make Morgan feel like he had to comfort Spencer back.<br>"I just wish she would come in here, saying sorry I'm late and sit down at the round table like nothing had happened," Morgan said, and Reid felt a lump in his throat when Derek's voice cracked. Tears were sliding down his face now. He didn't care if Morgan saw; now they both had shed tears. Silence filled between the two men again. They were completely undisturbed, only fading sounds from the bullpen area reached their ears.

Outside the snow fell, and somewhere between the snowflakes, miles and miles away, Spencer knew that happiness would once reappear.


End file.
